Like techno, he is brash,

Like techno, he is brash, uncompromising and not for www the faint-hearted. His designs are sparse and utilitarian; workwear given a twist by the use of reflective fabrics, php?option=com content&task=category§ionid=6&id=20&Itemid=80&limit=20&limitstart=20 fluorescent colours and industrial graphics; finished with sturdy, no- nonsense details like top-stitching and Velcro fasteners. index "It was an accident.""So we..." Daniel trembles with laughter, spilling his pint, "...we called him the Chinchilla killer."Daniel Poole is the king of techno fashion, a legend index on the club scene Like techno, he's everywhere yet invisible. When somebody eventually picked them up, they found two dead rodents "They'd suffocated," says Raff, ruefully. "I said to everybody, `Look, this is really good karma, we gotta look after them, no giving them blow-backs...'" He looks at Raff, who is php?option=com smiling, www index but coldly."Raff doesn't like this php?option=com story... Anyway, it's really rare, but they had babies, right, so we had double our Chinchillas, content&task=category§ionid=6&id=20&Itemid=80&limit=20&limitstart=20 man..."Raff takes over, index mock sermonising, content&task=category§ionid=6&id=20&Itemid=80&limit=20&limitstart=20 "...and so this was a sign, php?option=com content&task=category§ionid=6&id=20&Itemid=80&limit=20&limitstart=20 man, an auspicious www omen, a symbol of www the future! Four Chinchillas!"Some days later, Raff arrived at the Soho office carrying a huge php?option=com pile content&task=category§ionid=6&id=20&Itemid=80&limit=20&limitstart=20 of Daniel Poole www index banners and dumped them behind the sofa.

He had his Chinchillas with him last night, one in each pocket, and their excrement looks like little balls of hash, a fact he will exploit later, when he hands a piece to a model and says, "Here, roll a joint." He bought the Chinchillas last year, just rang up a pet shop, ordered them on his credit card, and they arrived at his office 30 minutes later. That was so funny."Daniel plucks some black gunk from a pocket of his self-designed patchwork coat, rolls it between finger and thumb, and flicks it across the table. I was with the PR from Paul Smith, I managed to get her tits out on the dancefloor. You punch the numbers in and it sends a signal up to a satellite, and that beams down your location." Where were you? "It was Plastic, this disco in Milan. "It's like a little satellite dish, and you hang it round your neck Sony gave me one. Devised for navigating aircraft and ballistic missiles, it also comes in handy if, like Daniel, you wake up in a nightclub you don't recognise.

GPS, it's brilliant man, you should check it out." Daniel Poole is explaining the Global Positioning System. John Kingsbury is confident, however, that our pre-eminence will be regained Just how would be telling Peter PophamPhotograph by Bill Coates. It didn't.As you would expect from such a gathering of anoraks, Brits are best - or were until a Dutchman, Bram Moens, seized the record last year. Not long ago he built what he calls a "rowing bike" - propelled by arms and legs together - after reading research which suggested that such a machine would go like stink. But the eventual winner was Nigel Leaper, who during the day designs Formula One racing cars for Maclaren. His vehicle is number 62, the sleek ovoid at the right with its trademark plastic bubble visor, vacuum-formed at home in an eight-foot-long oven.

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